The evening was pure gold,
I struck the source of flawless inspiration.
I wrote, I wrote some more, and then again.
I danced in the rhymes of my creation.
A year ago it looked so bleak.
I didn’t know who I was, where I’m headed.
I still don’t know it now, but then,
I learned to listen, and I comprehended.
My life was not full of events,
I learned to tune to noisy world.
Who knew that this is how it ends.
Just me. My pen. My written word.